


Of the mileage and years

by deepimpact



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Mostly Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:02:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27872741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepimpact/pseuds/deepimpact
Summary: Missing Scene from 1x17. Sam and Dean go to a drive-in, fluff.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 85





	Of the mileage and years

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly gen, pre-slash if you like.

“Any luck with the kid?” Sam asks, looking up. 

“Nope.” Dean pulls the car door closed with a gentle thud as he settles back into the driver’s seat. “All of them said some guy brought them there. Apparently he works at the record store off of Vineland. Have to check with him in the morning.”

“Hopefully he knows something,” Sam says, “So, back to the motel?”

“No way,” Dean thumps his arm against Sam loosely, as if Sam wasn’t already paying attention, and gestures up to the signboard next to the restaurant. “Look at tonight’s double feature.”

The signboard is advertising a back-to-back special, _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ and _Temple of Doom_.

“Dean, come on.”

“ _You_ come on. Harrison Ford is a legend.” Dean cracks a wide grin, the one he uses when he’s trying to get more pie or get a waitress’s phone number. “C’mon Sammy. I’ll buy you popcorn.”

And a small part of Sam wants to say no, wants to be responsible and to tell Dean they should get back to the room to get an early start tomorrow. But ever since they saw dad again, alive and in one piece, Sam has been in a reluctantly good mood. One movie night probably won’t throw them off. 

“Fine. I want extra butter.”

“You and your stupid butter,” Dean says, fumbling his wallet out of his back pocket as he moves to get out of the car.

“And we’re not staying for _Temple of Doom_.” Sam says as Dean swings open the door.

Dean turns back to pull an exaggerated offended face at Sam, “Of course not. I’ve got _taste_.”

It’s been a while since Sam has seen a movie in its entirety, one that wasn’t split up by commercial breaks on a motel tv. He’s kind of excited about the whole thing by the time Dean gets back to the car. 

Dean returns balancing a large tub of popcorn, two sodas, and a packet of Red Vines that he chucks through the open window at Sam’s chest. 

“Red Vines?” Sam asks, and can’t keep the delight out of his voice. He clutches them to his chest dramatically and smiles over at Dean.

“You’re welcome.” Dean says dryly and passes one of the sodas over to Sam, “Ah, shit. I forgot napkins.”

Dean ultimately decides he’s too lazy to go back for the napkins and instead brings the car around to face the screen, surrounded by locals and teenage couples.

“Ten bucks says the kids on our left make it to second base,” Dean says, waving his soda at the jeep parked next to them.

“I’m not taking that bet." Sam settles back into the bench. He knows what teenagers at drive-ins are like. He knows what _teenagers_ are like.

“Lame.”

The movie starts shortly after. Sam’s seen _Raiders_ a thousand times, but there’s something different about witnessing a movie on a giant screen, blown 50 feet high and the tinny audio coming through the impala’s radio. Dean’s got the windows cracked, just enough to let a breeze flow through, which just by itself feels like a miracle in the middle of Texas fall.

It’s good. It’s really good. It's just what Sam needed and for a minute he can forget why they’re even here. He feels- not quite normal, _never_ normal- but as close to normal as he’s ever been. Before he left for Sanford and drove a chasm between him and his brother.

They split the popcorn, hands bumping together when they’re too invested in the movie to glance down. In-between handfuls of popcorn Dean keeps licking his fingers, distracting smacking sounds over the audio in the car.

“Gross,” Sam says, after one particularly loud smack from Dean. Dean retaliates by trying to shove said fingers in Sam's ear. 

They eventually get to the scene where Marion and Indy are on the boat and Sam’s thoughts start to wander. He used to think Marion was hot, but the ‘women in white dresses’ thing is kind of ruined for him now. There’s something comforting about Indy though, the strong lines of his body, the cuts on his chest he got bleeding for the job and it reminds Sam so much of Dean and himself. Reminds him of the dozens of times they’ve had to stitch each other up after a hunt, the times he’s had to wash Dean’s blood off of his skin.

“Dude’s got game,” Dean whispers to Sam when Marion finally kisses Indy on the lips.

“You wish you had a chick like that to stitch you up after a hunt,” Sam whispers back. He’s worried for a second it's too mean, that he’s going to hit a nerve and Dean’s going to be mad at him for real.

“Nah." Dean says, a beat too late and still in the whisper-hush tone that makes Sam look over at him. "That’s what I got you for.”

Dean's got his eyes locked forward, expression carefully neutral. His profile is lit up by the glow of the screen, the angle of his nose and the curve of his jaw illuminated in the dark. 

Looking at Dean still gives Sam this hollow feeling in his stomach, something deep within he refuses to name and no number of miles will allow him to escape. 

Dean eventually cuts his eyes over to Sam. Something on Sam’s face must be giving him away, because Dean narrows his eyes and says, “What?”

“Nothing.” Sam can’t help but smiling, can’t look away from Dean either. It’s a good night, it’s a good movie, and he’s not going to let himself ruin his own good mood by over-analyzing every interaction they have.

“Don’t get sappy on me,” Dean says under his breath, but Sam knows he doesn’t mean it. 

Sam looks down at his Red Vines instead, pulls the last two apart and hands one over to Dean.

Sam barely catches it in the dark, but he watches the corner of Dean’s mouth turn up into a soft gentle smile before he looks back up at the screen.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware now that Sam canonically thinks licorice tastes like dirt but we all know red and black licorice aren't the same


End file.
